25 days of fiction challenge 2
by TheIncarnation
Summary: Some of the prompts from my 25 Days of fiction challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**This is prompt 11- Sick fic.**

**However this is a The Thick Of It fanfic, so is on a separate story.**

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><p>Malcolm never woke in the night, something that Sam envied massively. She woke up at all hours of the night and would not fall asleep for hours; on the other hands, he slept like a log… an incredibly irresistible log in her eyes. So, when he woke at two, Sam rolled over to face him and got a massive shock. His eyes were hollow, face gaunt and deathly pale; body trembling like an earthquake, she dare not reach out to him.<br>"Sam," he croaked, breathing heavily and wheezing slightly.  
>"Malcolm," she breathed, hardly daring to believe what she saw, "Malcolm! Tell me what to do!"<br>"Sam," he croaked again, "Please!"  
>A single tear ran down his cheek and she pressed her hand to his forehead, he was burning up. Quicker than light, Sam leapt up to rummage frantically in her bedside cabinet, he was clearly in pain and she couldn't bare seeing him like that. It had to be in there somewhere! She was sure she kept some painkillers there, thinking quickly, she pulled the covers from Malcolm's body. He hissed as she did so, but he was boiling hot, she slipped a hand under his black shirt- cold. How could he be two temperatures?<br>"I'm sorry Malc," she pulled the sheet and duvet back up, tucking him in like a child, but more like a lover instead of a parent.  
>"Sam!" he whined softly.<br>"Malcolm, you need to tell me what's wrong. Can you speak?"  
>"Sam!" he repeated.<br>"Hold on," she said, rushing to the bathroom to grab a glass of water for his painkillers.  
>Upon her return, she found Malcolm laying, crying and shivering even more.<br>"Malc, it's okay, I need you to sit, can you do that?"  
>Malcolm shuffled up the bed to try to sit, wincing in pain with each move.<br>"I'm sorry," Sam said, "But you need to breathe properly and have these," she pressed he glass to his lips after he swallowed the pills.  
>"Sam," he looked at the empty space in the bed next to him.<br>Without a word, Sam slipped into the bed and took his hands and stroked the cold skin. He nuzzled his face into the pillow therefore he couldn't see the tears falling freely down her face, salty beads forming on her lips and jaw. Malcolm was never ill and it was usually him giving her the tablets. Finally, she couldn't help it, a sob escaped her lips. Thankfully, Malcolm had fallen asleep. She ran a hand down his skinny body; he always said Ollie was thin, but he was skin clinging to bone. He didn't look peaceful, he looked like he was knocking on death's door and Sam knew she couldn't risk that. She checked the clock- three thirty. She took her phone from the desk and slithered through the door into the hallway.  
>"Jamie, it's Sam," she whispered.<br>"Aye lass, I can tell that," he said, "Calling me in the nigh', someone might wonder."  
>"Jamie, please stop it, Malcolm's ill!"<br>"How would you know that?"  
>"Don't act so surprised! Please come and help me!" she panicked, hearing Malcolm cry out.<br>"Alright lass, calm down," he said, hanging up.  
>She stopped pacing. Waiting by the door for Jamie seemed to take an age and all of the horrible thoughts that could ever build up ran through her head. Sam sat, face in her hands and shuddered, hoping that Jamie wold turn up soon. A knock roused her.<br>"Jamie! Help me!" she said, flinging her arms around him.  
>"Aye, it's my birthday!" he joked.<br>"I don't know what's happening."  
>She led him up to the room where Malcolm was laid.<br>"Hey, male cougar. Hey, wake up," he said as a way of meeting remarks.

Malcolm turned to the sound of the familiar Scot's voice.  
>"Fuck!" Jamie said upon seeing Malcolm's features.<br>"Sam," he moaned.  
>"I'm here."<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Prompt 13- Explaining mistletoe.**

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><p><strong>It was well into the night now, yet at Number 10 there was still a rush and buzz of people working. Malcolm was sat in his office, radio babbling on in the background, as he talked over the phone to Nicola Murray. Well, not talked exactly, bollocked was a better word to describe the running monologue.<br>"But you'd probably fucking cock that up too!" He yelled, "You told the fucking Guardian about the major fuck up from last week. Are ye fucking doing it on purpose? How can you tell the arse-licking cunts what you fucking knew you weren't supposed to?"  
>Once again, Malcolm didn't allow he time to answer before he continued shouting,<br>"Do I have to come to every fucking press conference with you and hold a sign up behind the twats saying 'Don't tell them about the punch up!' Even that Oxbridge twat can remember not to tell the press anything except the good bits! Fuck- my niece probably could!"  
>"Malcolm, it's not my fault."<br>"Not your fucking fault?" He asked incredulously.  
>"I didn't mean to say it how it sounded."<br>"You didn't fucking mean to, so it's fine and dandy that some poor cunt lost their job because you told the press about them shagging their assistant over the desk. More to the point, you told the press it was rape! I've had it up to here in shit with you, Nicola Murray! Any other person would sack you for leaking that, but since you are as low as it can fucking get, there is nobody for the job. That's it, gone, no lives left and the fucking shell monster falls on the red capped cunt."  
>He hung up abruptly. Running a hand through his hair, he picked up a satsuma and began peeling.<strong>

**"Malcolm," Sam said gently, entering his office.  
>"What is it love?" He asked in the tone that he always reserved for his pretty PA.<br>"Everyone's being looked into," she said sadly, "They think there's more people shagging without consent."  
>"Jesus fuck!" <strong>

**"What are we going to do?" She asked, lost for ideas.  
>"You say that we never shagged."<br>"CCTV."  
>"You always gave consent."<br>"I know, but they don't," Sam said, "We have to tell them at some point."  
>"We could keep quiet," he suggested as she began to cry.<br>"I don't want to be in the paper," she sobbed.  
>"You won't be lass," he said, gesturing for her to come and sit on his lap.<br>She complied, letting him take her hair out of her ponytail and fall free around her face. Malcolm took a strand and played with it, running the other hand up and down her back. Allowing him to try to soothe her, Sam nuzzled her nose into his neck and wrapped her arms around him. For a moment she closed her eyes and savoured the moment with delight.  
>"Sam," he said, looking up.<br>She followed his gaze,  
>"Mistletoe."<br>"What happens when two people meet under the mistletoe?" He asked her, not really needing a response.  
>"They kiss," Sam breathed.<br>"Care to demonstrate?"  
>Sam leaned in to brush her lips chastely against Malcolm's, waiting for his response before deepening the kiss. He pulled her as close as he could and tangled his hands in her hair, hers resting on his cheeks. For a while they sat, locked in their embrace, before breaking apart and gasping for air.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Prompt 14- Festive fiasco- work**

**Malcolm/Sam**

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><p>On the outside, Number 10 was decorated like the rest of the streets of London, but the inside held the grim truth. Nothing changed at Christmas; in fact, it probably got more frantic due to the PM's media appearances throughout the festive season, they had to make sure he didn't say anything suspect. Quite often he did and they would spend hours at night fixing the mistakes, or putting another story in to the press. At the heart of it was Malcolm Tucker- infamous spin doctor.<p>

When Malcolm wasn't at DoSAC, he was running around tying losse ends with the cabinet. Due to this, he called a lot of cabs, meaning he did a lot of sitting around for hours. He knew that his PA, Sam, was supposed to remain at her desk in case of calls, but soon found that whenever he had to go out, he seemed to always take her with him. Most people would think he wouldn't like company, but the truth was that Malcolm did prefer the company of the woman he had grown to trust to being on his own. It got Sam out of the office and that pleased her.

It was one of those times, the 23rd of December, when he was in a car back from Dover. He had gone to a press conference, choosing to take Sam with him as a welcome distraction for himself. The journey there had seemed to take longer than it should have and the conference had went fairly smoothly. But Malcolm had only been able to have a shout at one person in three days so he was beginning to lose his sanity. It was a pity nobody from DoSAC was there! Sam had offered to be the subject of a bollocking, but he had refused, saying she was a nice lass who wasn't a complete twat. To that, he had smiled and dared to kiss his hand,  
>"That means a lot Malcolm."<p>

The subject wasn't approached again.

Now, on the journey back, they were cramped in what seemed like the smallest car ever. Sam's leg was mashed up against Malcolm's and it was all he could do to keep his hand from straying to rest on her knee. Why would she want an old git like him? However, Sam was waiting in apprehension for him to make a move- she had been for the whole trip. He clearly couldn't see she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Her efforts were in vain. Malcolm called on her at seven in the mornings to go down to breakfast, she had answered the door in a robe and he still couldn't see how much she wanted him to at least look. It was surprising, she was as suggestive as she could be and he didn't seem to notice… or maybe he did! As she gazed in boredom out of the window as the y left Dover, he rested his hand on hers 'by accident'. She felt her heart skip and butterflies in her stomach. For once, he had no calls, supposing Jamie was dealing with anything that came up. Sam made no effort to move her hand away, she curled hers up into his, it just seemed to fit. He looked at her, a hint of a smile glinting in his usually cold eyes. Before Malcolm knew it, Sam's lips were on his, pressing chastely. She broke off when he didn't respond, hanging her head and preparing for a bollocking.  
>"Sam," he said, "Sam, pet, are ye sure?"<br>"Yes," she breathed.  
>"Come here lass," he said, taking her face in his hands, cupping the soft flesh.<br>He instigated the kiss that time, Sam thought it seemed sweeter when he kissed back, she closed her eyes and fell into an easy snog. His tongue swiped along her perfect teeth and mingled with hers. They broke apart; Sam rested her forehead on his, eyes still closed and she whispered,  
>"I thought you'd never do that."<br>"I wasn't sure you'd want me tae."  
>"Do it again," Sam requested.<br>"Yes, milady," he joked, swooping down on her lips again.

The blissful silence was interrupted by the ringtone Malcolm kept for Jamie.  
>"Fuck!" he said, pressing a finger to Sam's lips and kissing her nose gently.<br>"Malcolm," Jamie said hurriedly, "Major shitstorm brewing. Murray can't go three days without fucking something up."  
>"Jamie," he said, "I know you want tae fuck me, but I cannae do anything when I'm not there. You need to be me today. I know, you'll bloody love it, ye massive twat. Go shout at some cunts!"<br>He hung up abruptly and took Sam in his arms as best as he could with the seatbelt still restricting him. Malcolm's lips met hers again and she could tell he was trying his best not to put all of his frustrations into the kiss. He wasn't going to take it out on her. She broke the kiss.  
>"Malcolm, it's okay. Be as rough as you like. It's safe, you'll be fine."<br>"I don't want tae hurt ye."  
>"You need to let it out," she told him firmly, at his look of disapproval, she smiled, "I might like it."<br>"You wouldn't."  
>"Try me!"<br>Reluctantly, he smashed his lips against hers and forced her into a kiss. She gave a little whimper into his mouth as he laced his hands in her silky hair, drawing it from the neat ponytail. Sam realised it wouldn't be worthwhile if she sat motionless, she responded with equal passion, not letting out frustration, but making herself feel more lust for him, to feel the rough touch and his lips.

The ringtone pierced the nice silence again.  
>"Jesus fuck!" he said, this was testing his patience, "I'm sorry luv."<br>"It's alright," she said, "Shout at him for a bit."  
>He answered the call, greeting Jamie,<br>"If you call me one more time you absolute arse-licking twat, I will preform a living fucking dissection on you when I get back!"  
>"I'd like tae fucking see ye try!" Jamie said.<br>"I presume ye had a fucking reason to call me, ye cunt?"  
>"It's got out of control," Jamie said, he heard shouting in the background and the clear sound of someone being punched.<br>"Buckle up, be me, actually, be me, but with a smaller dick and put Number 10 under a fucking lockdown. I shouldn't have tae tell you this shit."  
>"Speaking of your dick, had Sam ravished it off yet?" Jamie joked.<br>"Fuck off!" Malcolm hung up, "Dickhead."  
>"Has Sam ravished it off yet?" Sam asked, "You told him off all people."<br>"I didn't tell anyone. He knows wee went to a conference and knew we were in a hotel. He must of put two and two together."  
>"Fucking animal," Sam said, "Is he completely obsessed with sex?"<br>"Never gets any," Malcolm said.  
>"Going into the office when we get back?"<br>"Aye," he said, "I don't trust that rat to do anything properly."  
>The rest of the journey was spent in a comfortable silence, mostly because Malcolm couldn't keep away from Sam. The driver kept giving them odd looks, but he didn't care- the cabby didn't know their names, he couldn't get a story to the press unless he did. Snogging in a cab wasn't unusual.<p>

Meanwhile, back at DoSAC, Jamie prowled around the office, trying to calm the people's attitudes. How did Malcolm scare them enough? He was feared, but it seemed once the leak was out, he couldn't keep the Oxbridge twat from hitting the Terri and keep Terri from hitting the incompetent blonde. Whatever had happened seemed to make them more violent than usual. He had debated leaving them to get on with the fight like he usually would, but something changed this. Murray wasn't involved and that was new. It would look bad on his part if Malcolm came back and had to deal with all of this, he did want to keep his job after all. Hopefully Malcolm would get back from Dover soon…

Eventually, Malcolm and Sam reached the DoSAC offices,  
>"Come with me."<br>"What?" Sam asked.  
>"Come on," he said, "We'll get a cab back. It's time you saw DoSAC."<br>"But our stuff."  
>"Take these back to Number 10, take them to Malcolm Tucker's office."<br>The driver nodded and drove off.  
>"Welcome to the DoSAC, the department with the most twats in it. The department of the fuck-ups is a better phrase.<br>"I know, you always go on about them."  
>"However do ye put up with the shouting?" Malcolm said as they got into the lift.<br>Sam smiled saucily. Malcolm's eyes bulged,  
>"You get off on it?"<br>"A bit," she said, "Usually when you're yelling at Murray."  
>"Come on, Miss Cassidy," she followed him into the office where Jamie was pacing; Glenn was trying to get between Robyn and Terri and Ollie sat with Nicola, hand clutching his nose, blood flowing.<br>"I promise it's not like this all the time," Malcolm told her.  
>"Right," Sam whispered, half appalled, half amused.<br>"In case Jamie hasn't told you, we're under a fucking lockdown!" he yelled, "And you have ten seconds to tell me what's gone on before I rip all of your skins off, starting with this one."  
>He indicated Robyn, who began to cower under his gaze. Glenn started explaining at the pleading look in her eyes. Clearly she thought Malcolm was going to do what he said.<br>"Well, Terri managed to leak a story about Ollie and Emma. So Ollie got punched when he tried to hit her. I never thought he'd hit a woman. And Terri's trying to hit Robyn because she leaked something about her. Nicola's with Ollie."  
>"What was leaked?"<br>"About Ollie sleeping with the opposition to gain information and that Terri's trying to sleep with Mannion for information. HIs wife's furious!"

"So, DoSAC has been shagging the opposition like rabbits," Malcolm turned to Jamie, "Why did you need me? Are you that much of a shite-eating rat that you cannae deal with this yourself?"  
>"I'm dinnae know what to do," he protested, "Turns out I do need yer massive cunt tae deal with DoSAC."<br>"I leave you in charge for three days and you manage to fucking let a fight happen!"  
>"Alright Sam," Jamie said, "Enjoyed the hotel?"<br>"It was fine, thank you Jamie."  
>"Aye, I bet it was, I should have gone with ye. You'd enjoy it more with me," he flirted.<br>"Fuck off Jamie," Malcolm said.  
>"Aye, ye can go and do Murray and her in the office."<br>He left before the paper ball Sam threw hit him.  
>"Nicola," Malcolm said, "Jesus Christ! Head forward ye Oxbridge twat!"<br>Ollie complied as Sam entered the room.  
>"Malcolm, what do we do?"<br>"Get more competent staff, for a start," Sam muttered.  
>"Find out who's running the story and stop them, nip it in the bud, seal the virginity back up. Then ye fire the incompetent one that Glenn wanks over for the leak- say she has extremist views, just don't mention that those extremist views are about the opposition. You have to keep the fat cunt, Terri- she knows too fucking much. Sort it or abort it and by that I mean abort your career."<br>"Malcolm!"  
>"Sort it yourself," Malcolm shouted, walking out to the lifts.<br>"Is she really the last resort," Sam asked.  
>"Sadly. Her entire career has been someone pissing on her."<br>"Hmm," Sam murmured, taking his tie in hand as soon as they stepped in the lift, "A little trick I learnt."  
>She jammed the lift and pressed him up against the metal.<br>"Woah, Sam," Malcolm said, "Come home with me?"  
>"Always."<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Prompt 16- Authors choice**

**-Has to have a foreign language**

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><p>Malcolm Tucker usually got to work at about the same time as his PA, Sam. Due to the non-staggered arrival, many thought that they were either together or having an affair. The unfortunate among the workers who voiced that were the subject of a pretty brutal bollocking; they were onto something. To be blunt, Sam was shagging Malcolm. It had all started when Sam turned up at Malcolm's in the middle of a storm. Her beautiful hair lay limp and drenched around her face and her clothes clung to her frame, soaked to the skin. The sound of thunder crashed and streaks of lightning flashed through the sky.<br>"I'm so sorry Malcolm, I didn't know what to do, I left my keys at the office and was near here," she said, eyes half closed against the force of the rain.  
>"It's alright lass, ye come in, stay there," he said, rushing off to the bathroom to fetch some towels.<br>Sam stood, shivering and trying to unlace her shoes with numb fingers. Malcolm returned and smirked softly at the sight of her efforts,  
>"Come here," Malcolm said, unlacing her boots effortlessly.<br>Trying to savour the moment, Sam gazed down at him, it wasn't often that one would have Malcolm Tucker at their feet, literally. It was so uncharacteristic, him being domestic. He stood to wrap a towel around her,  
>"Bathroom's upstairs, second on the left. I'll go get ye some clothes."<br>"Thanks Malcolm," she said, drawing the towel tighter around herself.  
>"It's time I paid ye back."<br>Sam smiled gratefully up at him and left for the bathroom. Just as she had expected, the bathroom was pristine and spacious.  
>"Sam!" he called, "Have a bath or a shower or whatever. Make herself at home."<br>"Thank you!" she called back.  
>"I'll be in the kitchen!"<br>Sam sighed, she was having a bath in Malcolm's house! Trying not to smile at the implications, she started to fill the tub.

A knock on the door roused her from the trance she had entered from staring at the water running.  
>"Are ye decent Sam?"<br>"Yeah," she said.  
>Malcolm entered, carrying a thick jumper and what looked like jogging bottoms with a belt. He placed them on the stand,<br>"They'll drown ye, sorry."  
>"Thank you, really, you didn't have to do any of this."<br>"I couldn't just leave ye in the cold. Now, ye have that bath and when your out I'll have something ready for ye."  
>He left, leaving Sam smiling with butterflies in her stomach. She was really in Malcolm's with him caring for her. This was something she had fantasised about for years. She couldn't really understand why Malcolm and a bottle of bath foam on the edge of the bath; she couldn't picture him having a bath. Sam wanted to though.<br>"Leave your wet clothes outside the door Sam!"  
>"Okay!"<p>

With great relief, she stripped of f her sodden blouse and skirt, placing them with her wet coat outside the door. After removing the remaining soaked garments, Sam stepped into the bath. The hot water instantly soothing her cold skin and joints. Closing her eyes, she laid back, letting her hair dip into the water. The sound of a radio pierced the sounds of thunder, hail and a the rain. Classic radio, it seemed to fit. Without really realising, Sam drifted off to sleep.

Waking suddenly to the feeling of water lapping at her face, Sam opened her eyes abruptly and breathed out, it hadn't just been a dream. She really was at Malcolm's! Seeing her phone next to the clothes the man had left, she raised herself unwillingly out of the water and stepped out onto the towel, wrapping the other one he left around herself and checked the time. She let the bathwater drain. Around twenty minutes had passed, drying off quickly, Sam slipped the clothes on. The jumped settled mid-thigh and she had to roll up the trousers a bit. Letting her drying hair hang loose around her shoulders, she slipped, barefoot into the hallway. Her clothes had vanished, Malcolm had taken them to dry them downstairs, she followed the sound of the radio to find the kitchen. Eventually, she found him, stood, cutting vegetables at the counter, a pan on the stove.  
>"Only twenty minutes?" Malcolm asked.<br>"Yeah, I fell asleep," Sam laughed, "Thanks for doing all this."  
>"Storms worse, the radio had an emergency broadcast. People in cities are being warned to stay in their homes," he said.<br>"Will you be going in tomorrow?"  
>"No," he said, "I could get hit by a skyscraper!"<br>Sam laughed, sitting at the table.  
>"You're staying here til it's safe out," Malcolm told her.<br>"I don't want to impose," Sam said, "I can go if you want."  
>"I want ye to," Malcolm said, at her raised eyebrow, "It's safer."<br>"Thanks," Sam smiled, "What are you making?"  
>"Soup," he said, "Chicken soup."<br>He placed a glass of water in front of her,  
>"Your clothes are drying. They fit okay?"<br>"Just about, they're a bit big," she said, indicating the sleeves.  
>"Cosier."<br>"Yeah," she murmured as the veg was put into the pan.  
>"Won't be long now."<br>He covered the pan and sat opposite her.  
>"What happened?" he asked.<br>"I left my keys at the office so I can't get into my flat. You were near and I thought you might help," Sam explained.  
>"Course I would. I wouldn't just leave ye in a storm."<br>"Thank you," Sam said again.  
>Malcolm's phone rang,<br>"Ah twat of the year."  
>"Malcolm," Jamie replied, "Have ye seen the storm. I'm working from home tomorrow."<br>"Aye," Malcolm said.  
>"Yer PA's not picking up the phone."<br>"That's because she's here with me."  
>"At yer house? Malcolm, have ye pulled?"<br>"Naw, she's here because she cannae get into her flat and I said it's better tae be inside ye cunt."  
>"Whatever ye say," Jamie hung up.<br>"Wichser!" Malcolm muttered.  
>"I didn't know you spoke German."<br>Sam sipped at her water, looking in amusement at Malcolm. She felt Malcolm's feet brush against her bare ones softly, he hadn't noticed. It was the kind of fleeting touch that made her heart flutter or beat wildly in her chest. He stood, allowing her to appreciate the view of Malcolm without a tie and blazer, the top buttons of his shirt were undone and a soft fleece was zipped to midway up.  
>"Get some bowls out of the cupboard behind ye, would ye," he requested.<br>Sam complied and took the duck egg coloured crockery out of the cupboard, setting them on the counter where the pan now stood. She watched eagerly as Malcolm ladled the chicken soup into the bowls and placed them back on the table, pulling open a draw to retrieve cutlery. They sat, Sam still shivering a little, eating the soup Malcolm had prepared.  
>"This is really nice, thank you Malcolm," Sam said.<br>"My mam taught me," Malcolm said, "It warms ye and is bloody brilliant."  
>"Mmm," she said in appreciation.<br>The sound of thunder seemed to echo outside and the storm didn't seem to get any better, with no signs of it subsiding. It was getting worse. Sam didn't want to let Malcolm know that the storm scared her a bit. Not in the way it scared children, but she didn't like not being able to get home. But that was zoon to change…


	5. Chapter 5

**Prompt 18- Christmas party  
>Sam gets her wicked way with Malcolm at the Christmas Party.<strong>

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><p>"See you tonight," Sam said, swinging round the corner to Malcolm's office.<br>"Aye," he said moodily, "Christmas bloody party. How could I miss it? Jamie getting pissed and maiming some DoSAC twats."  
>"And Nicola Murray's karaoke," she said dryly, "Bye Malcolm."<br>"Have a nice three hours Sam," he said, appreciating the view as she left.

The party was in full swing around when Sam entered the room. Many heads turned her way, particularly the men stood at the bar. Jamie mostly.  
>"Well lassie, yer looking fine," he flirted.<br>"Thank you Jamie," she said, stepping up to the bar to buy a drink; as she went to pay, Jamie rested a hand upon hers.  
>"It's on me."<br>"Thank you," she said, hoping there wasn't a catch.  
>Beady eyes were fixed on her chest, it wasn't unlike Jamie but still unnerved her. The fitted dark green dress hugged in all the right places, but wasn't too low cut. She searched around for Malcolm as she sipped at her drink, making unpleasant small talk with the man. Only then, when her eyes flickered to the door did she see the unmistakeable form of Malcolm Tucker looking like a Scottish James Bond.<br>"Excuse me," she said to Jamie, scuttling over to her bosses side.  
>"Very handsome Malcolm," batting her eyelashes.<br>"As are ye," he said, looking at her dress.  
>"Seen anyone to bollock yet?"<br>"Murray. But I'm not going to," he said, "Self restraint."  
>Sam smiled at the Scotsman, holding out her arm, he took it and let her drag him over to Jamie. He smirked.<p>

A few hours later, Sam found herself sat in the corner with Malcolm, drink grasped in hand, his hand rested on her knee- it had been for a while. He hadn't realised he had done so. Sam hadn't protested, she would if she didn't want it. Smiling mischievously, Sam spread her knees a little, forcing his hand to slip further. He pulled away instantly, to find her hands hindering his movement.  
>"Sam?"<br>"Come with me," she whispered, taking his hand and dragging him towards the door.  
>Jamie watched curiously.<br>"What are ye doing Sam?" he asks as she drags him down an alleyway.  
>"Getting away from there," she said, "So I can do this."<br>Pressing Malcolm against the wall, Sam kissed his lips softly. Hardly daring to believe it, Malcolm let himself kiss her back. She broke away,  
>"And this."<br>Sam's lips attacked his neck, dipping her nose to nuzzle his shoulder. Her teeth sunk into the soft skin of his neck, sucking softly. She left a neat row of hickeys. Before softly drawing a little blood. Malcolm gasped and moaned.  
>"Anyone can walk in," Sam said, "And that's what you like. Anyone can see you getting seen to by your PA. And people who look closer can see me biting you and sucking your blood up. I'm not a vampire but I like blood. It turns me on and seeing you vulnerable is nice."<br>Malcolm shivered.  
>"They're going to notice we've gone," he said.<br>"I told Jamie to say you were ill if anyone asks," Sam explained, "Now I have you all to myself."

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><p><strong>I would like to know if anybody wants a separate vampire fic- let me know in the comments or by PM. If you have strong ideas about who should be the vampire, please feel free to let me know. Thanks.<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Prompt 20- OTP/OT3 day- the Christmas Elf**

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><p>Sighing heavily, Malcolm sat down at his desk with tiredness not seen in him before. Hands running through his thick, greying hair, he didn't even notice the satsuma lying on his desk, or the note lying next to it.<br>"Sam!" he called.  
>No response.<br>"Sam!" he called again, "Sam, if I have to come out there lass!"  
>No response. Where was his beautiful PA? Beginning to worry, Malcolm pulled out his blackberry.<br>"Sam," he said, "Where are ye lass?"  
>"Sorry Malcolm, you gave me the evening off. I left a note on your desk," Sam said, terrible Christmas songs playing in the background.<br>"Where are ye?" he asked.  
>"Christmas party," she said, he rolled his eyes.<br>"Have fun," he said, tiredly.  
>"Malcolm," she replied, "Go home, have a bath and get some rest."<br>"Thanks," he said, smiling slightly at her concern, "Bye."  
>"Bye Malc."<br>He lay his phone down on his desk; debating staying and continuing to work, but Sam would be able to tell… and admittedly, that bath did sound good. He decided upon the latter, finding the note on his desk. How could he miss that? It was clear now and the page was filled with Sam's elegant swirly writing. That writing that could make his ramblings look good, the writing that made official documents look brighter; he could spend hours just staring at it, his never had been great. Slipping both his phone and note into his pocket, he took his coat from where Sam kept it.

Soundly closing the front door, Malcolm dumped his coat and bag on the floor, thinking only of hot water and his warm bed. He sometimes wondered if he regretted not finding a partner after his first wife left. It wasn't fair to whoever they were, he was never there and would end in the same as the last marriage. Then again, no regrets. He could always fantasise, though he never did that. Taking Sam's letter out of his coat, he slumped to his bathroom. Filling the bath, Malcolm wrapped a robe around him and looked down at the letter:  
><em>Malcolm,<em>  
><em>I'm sorry, I'm away tonight. If something crops up, just phone me. If anything happened, I honestly don't mind- work first. <em>

_You looked tired earlier, make sure you get some sleep before tomorrow. If I can do ANYTHING let me know. See you tomorrow. Have a nice evening,_

_Sam. x_

For how long Malcolm lay in the bath, staring at the page, Malcolm did not know. But he was roused by a harsh knock on the door, luring him out of a state of peace. Who would call at this hour? Grumbling, Malcolm rose from the bath, wrapping himself back into his robe. He opened the door, slightly dishevelled, revealing Sam. Her hand grasped an umbrella above her, a Christmas hat perched on top of her dark mass of curls.  
>"Sam!"<br>"Evening Malcolm," she said saucily.  
>"What are ye doing here? Come in, ye'll freeze to death."<br>"Thank you Malcolm," Sam drew herself closer to him, "I didn't want you to be alone. It's nearly Christmas."  
>"And you are an elf," he indicated her skimpy outfit.<br>"Your Christmas elf," she said, running a hand down his chest, "And you were in the bath. I'm sorry, but that makes this so much easier…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Prompt 21- Let's build a snowman**

**Fluff. Nothing but it.**

* * *

><p>"It's snowing," Sam said vaguely, stirring Malcolm's coffee whilst watching the snow fall out of the window.<br>Nobody was there to answer. Malcolm had been quiet for a few hours now, she was starting to become slightly worried. Apart from Jamie, nobody but her had been into his office over the past three days. Business seemed to be slowing to the minimum amount. She entered his office,  
>"Malcolm, coffee," she said softly.<br>He was stood at the window, reduced to watching the snow. Upon the sound of her voice, he whipped around and took the coffee from her hands, fingertips brushing against her palm.  
>"Thank ye lass," he said, gulping the hot liquid.<br>"Are you alright Malcolm?" she asked, "Nobody has been in here in days."  
>"Nothings happening. Nicola hasn't even made a tiny cock-up in days," he said.<br>"That must be quite a feat," Sam commented, turning to leave.  
>"Sam!" he called after her, "Stay."<br>Looking at him between her mascara-coated eyelashes, she grinned and sat at his desk.  
>"How long's it been since it last snowed?" he asked.<br>"Years," Sam said, "Nothing interesting ever happens, it's England."  
>"Nothings happening, fancy a bite to eat?" he asked, turning to face him.<br>"I'll turn the phone to voicemail," she said, turning to his phone.

"My treat," he said, placing Sam's drink down in front of her.  
>"Thank you Malcolm," Sam said.<br>"How've ye been?" Malcolm asked, sipping his drink.  
>"Not bad," she said, "Working, working, eating, sleeping, working."<br>Malcolm sniggered,  
>"Ye could have more time off if ye want Sam."<br>"I like working," she protested.  
>"Ye need some time tae relax."<p>

"Through the park," Malcolm said.  
>"So romantic," Sam teased.<br>"Relaxing," he said, walking with a bounce in his step towards the snow-covered glass.  
>"What are you doing?" she asked as Malcolm bent down to gather some snow into a ball.<br>"Building a snowman," Malcolm called back.  
>"Seriously?" she grinned, "The great Malcolm Tucker building a snowman."<br>"Is there something wrong with that?"  
>"No," she said, "It's just… unexpected."<br>"Come here," he said, punctuating his words by shoving two twigs into the sides.  
>She complied, joining him by the new snowman. He reached down to put a hand on the small of her back,<br>"There."  
>"What's his name?" she asked.<br>"Doesn't have one," Malcolm said, "Ye name him."  
>"Jamie," she said, smiling.<br>Sam reached up to draw a snarl on the snowman, Malcolm grinned.  
>"That's about right," Malcolm smirked.<br>Sam reached up, standing on her toes, to tentatively kiss his lips. He kissed back! Drawing her in closer, he wrapped his thick coat around her, pressing Sam's body against his. Sam's hands rested on his back, nose brushing against his. His were on her waist, curled to caress every inch of her.  
>"Can't be too long," she said, "People might wonder."<br>"Doesn't matter," he said firmly, "Would they say anything, lass?"  
>"I suppose not," she sighed, head resting on his chest.<br>"Come on," he took her hand, strolling through the park again.  
>Nobody would see them…<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Prompt 22- Ball.  
>There's only a little plot actually at the social event known as a ball, but there's a bit before and after. Some Jamie and some stalking-as-usual!Ollie.<strong>

* * *

><p>"It's only one night," Sam protested as she lay in their bed.<br>"I don't want tae go," Malcolm whined.  
>"You have to Malcolm and you need a date," she said, turning to face him.<br>"Will you treat me to a Christmas snog?" he asked, "When we're there."  
>"Maybe, if it gets you there," Sam said, resting her head on his chest.<br>"Aye, I've got tae get up lass," he said, stroking her silky hair gently.  
>"Do you have to?" she sighed, "I'm comfortable now."<br>"Ten minutes," he promised, "Just ten."  
>Malcolm's hands snaked around her back to hold her tightly and her hands wrapped around him. As he stroked up and down her back, her toes curled up in pleasure; breathing heavily when he kissed her.<br>"Who's going to be there?"  
>"PM, DoSAC, MPs, the works," she replied.<br>"Fucking DoSAC, looks like I have to go if I have to keep an eye on them and Tom," he said, "You'll stay with me?"  
>"Of course I will," she said, "Jamie'll be there."<br>"You're going tae keep his filthy hands off me," he joked.  
>"Doesn't mean he'll keep my hands off you," she said, wrapping one leg around his.<p>

"Zip me up," Sam said, lifting her hair.  
>"Aye," Malcolm said, complying, "Ye going tae let me undo this tonight?"<br>"Maybe, if you behave," she said, he kissed the back of her neck after she pinned her hair into a complicated knot on top of her head.  
>"So I cannae bollock anyone?"<br>"Only if they deserve it Malc," she said, "By that I don't mean just because Reader has a pretty face."  
>"I don't bollock people with pretty faces," he said, "I'd never yell at ye."<br>"Thank you," she said, "What if I deserved it?"  
>"Na, I wouldn't," he said, kissing a line along her neck, leaving a tiny hickey where her collar covered it.<br>"Oi," she said indignantly, "People will see that."  
>"People will see that and back the fuck off," Malcolm said.<br>"Claiming me?" Sam teased, "I love you."

"Can I get you a drink?" Ollie asked.  
>How could this have happened? Malcolm had left for a few seconds and straight away Ollie had latched onto Sam like an insect to honey.<br>"No thank you," she said coldly.  
>"Sure?"<br>"Have you got a date or are you latching onto someone attractive because you can't get one?"  
>He left.<br>"What did prick face want?" Jamie asked.  
>"Nothing, just to be a creep," Sam replied, "Seen Malcolm?"<br>"No," he said, "Auld cunts probably off yelling at Murray."  
>"Probably," Sam agreed, "He better watch out when he gets home."<br>"Made him promise to behave?"  
>"Yeah," she sighed.<br>"Care to dance?" he asked.  
>Sam looked up,<br>"Certainly."

"What was all that about with Jamie?"  
>"Nothing, we were just dancing, non metaphorically."<br>"And fucking making me watch, getting a fucking hard on at a ball with the PM. Talking to Murray, like I was funking erect for her. For fucking glum my mummy," Malcolm said.  
>"Turned you on?" Sam smirked, "Still turned on now?"<br>"Aye."  
>"Want to do something about that dear?"<br>"Aye. Fucking aye."


	9. Chapter 9

**Prompt 23- Sweet treats**

* * *

><p>The reason why Malcolm never baked anymore was because Jamie never stopped nicking whatever he made. Christmas was the one time that he still did.<br>"Oi!" Malcolm shouted, watching Jamie sneak into the kitchen.  
>"Ah fuck," he swore, "Eyes in yer fucking arse!"<br>"You'd fucking know that," Malcolm said.  
>"Aye, I would," Jamie said, retreating into the lounge.<br>"Stealing Jamie, common stealing," Sam teased, "Told you it wouldn't work."  
>He sat on the sofa next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her down so her head was laying on his lap.<br>"Jamie," she squealed as he ran his hands up and down her sides.  
>"Still ticklish?" he asked.<br>Sighing, Malcolm picked up her feet and sat, placing them back onto his lap,  
>"She's still ticklish as fuck."<br>Trying to contain her giggling, Sam nuzzled into Jamie. Malcolm's hands rubbed at her stocking-clad feet and ankles.  
>"Uh," she moaned, "Malcolm! Jamie!"<br>"Aye," Jamie said.

"Hey," Sam swung into the kitchen.  
>"Fuck!" Jamie swore, "Every fucking time!"<br>"You trying again," Malcolm asked, "Do you never fucking learn?"  
>"Maybe you should enforce what you say more often," he said.<br>"Fucking whore," Malcolm said, "Do you ever think about anything but sex?"  
>"Nothing but," he said.<br>Jamie retreated back to the lounge.

Only once Sam had assisted him in his quest to nick a freshly baked biscuit. It hadn't ended well.  
>"Sam!" Malcolm shouted, "You're fucking helping him?!"<br>"I was hungry," Sam shrugged.  
>"I trusted you to keep an eye on him," Malcolm said.<br>"Aye," Jamie said, "It only took a little persuasion."  
>"Fucking hell," Malcolm said.<br>"Just a little," Sam said, smiling saucily.  
>She swung her hips, walking to Malcolm before kissing his lips softly and wrapping a leg around his. She was so graceful. Meanwhile, whilst Malcolm was distracted, Jamie snuck a few biscuits from the stand.<br>"Jamie!" Malcolm noticed him.

Once, Sam baked, once again, Jamie tried to nick some of the new goods.

"Jamie," Sam said, "At least bloody wait until they've cooled."  
>"How can ye always fucking tell when I do this?"<br>"It's obvious what you're going to do," she said firmly, taking it out of his hands and nibbling part of it.  
>"Fuck Sam," he said, allowing her to place it at his lips.<br>"That was going to be the general idea," Sam whispered.  
>"Oh good," he said, drawing her closer, "Fucking aye."<p>

"For once in yer bloody life can ye not steal the fucking biscuits?!" Malcolm yelled.  
>Jamie didn't reply, just licked the icing sugar from his lips.<br>"Don't fucking try tae tantalise me, or I'll cut it fucking short."  
>"Why Jamie?" Sam said, approaching from behind Malcolm.<br>"Ye shouldn't fucking bake if ye know I'll do this," Jamie protested.  
>"Ye shouldn't fucking steal," Malcolm responded instantly.<br>"Ye shouldn't fucking make such delicious shit," Jamie said.

"Doesn't give ye an excuse," Malcolm said, drawing the other man closer to peck his lips softly.  
>"Yes it does ye auld cunt," he said, resting his head on Malcolm's chest, "Where's Sam?"<br>"Doctor's. She said she wanted to of on her own."  
>"Poor lass," he said protectively.<p>

"Malcolm," Sam said warningly.  
>"Fuck!" Malcolm yelled, jumping.<br>He had been caught!


	10. Chapter 10

**Prompt 24- Groceries and a drink  
>The last one on The Thick Of It. Have you been reading my sister fic- Doctor Who? The last prompt will be there. <strong>

* * *

><p>The only thing Sam hated about Christmas was picking up the festive shop from down the road. It was always made better by the fact that she no longer did it herself. Malcolm and Jamie were always at home for Christmas now. They would come with her, Malcolm's hand in hers. But they always had to be even more careful; the press were all around.<p>

Then, upon returning home, Jamie would crack open a bottle of something- mulled wine usually. It happened each year, Sam would lay on the sofa, head resting in Jamie's lap, feet on Malcolm's. The inevitable would happen and soon Jamie would get drunk. He would end up braiding her hair and singing. Badly. Malcolm would simply roll his eyes, hands not leaving Sam's ankles and feet from where he had been stroking them, his domestic side showing. When Jamie got drunk, he became even more focussed on trying to shag Sam. Each time, she would tease and refuse.  
>"Please?" he pleaded.<br>"Not tonight Jamie, tomorrow maybe," she said.  
>"Fucking tease," he said, reaching round to caress her sides.<br>"Aye," Malcolm said, raising her foot to his lips to softly kiss it.  
>She was always slightly distracted by the fact that Jamie usually swore a lot more when he was drunk, at least in front of her, he didn't become violent.<br>"Wine?" Malcolm offered, taking her glass from the table.  
>"Mmm," she moaned softly.<br>Propping Sam up, Jamie took the glass from Malcolm and raised it at her lips, allowing her to sip at it. That was their game, Malcolm and Jamie would try to get her drunk and try for sex.  
>"Please?" Jamie asked again.<br>"I'm not shagging you tonight Jamie," she protested.  
>"Shame," Malcolm said, "I could watch."<br>"Stop it," she said playfully, "It's Christmas tomorrow, can you not wait?"  
>"I cannae wait," Jamie said, "Ye have that fucking effect on me."<br>"Nah, I cannae wait either, fucking tease," Malcolm said.  
>"Gods boys, you'll be the death of me."<p>

The night drew in, Jamie no longer kept begging, instead, he ended up yelling at the TV with Malcolm at some political speech from the opposition. Sam laid, contentedly, resting before a long day tomorrow.

"Fucking arsehole!" Jamie yelled, "When I next fucking see him, I'm going to hole punch his poxy face, but he'd probably fucking like that- the slut!"  
>"Aye, imagine what glummy mummy is thinking," Malcolm smirked.<br>"Thinking about how much she fucking likes pissing herself probably," he replied cruelly.  
>"Kinky," Sam added.<br>"Aye," Malcolm said, "I mean, the guy is a fucking retard."  
>"How does he get his hair so shiny?" Sam wondered.<br>Jamie looked down at her,  
>"Cum."<br>They burst out laughing.  
>"You and your obsessions," Malcolm teased.<br>Jamie smirked, mockingly batting his eyelashes.  
>"You shouldn't indulge him," Sam stage-whispered.<br>"Aye," Malcolm said, "Not tonight."  
>"I'm glad we see eye to eye," Sam said, distracting him from the major fuck up on TV.<br>"We always do," Malcolm said indigently.  
>"Until it comes to giving him alcohol," she laughed, watching Jamie fall asleep on the sofa.<p> 


End file.
